


Dog-days

by nothing_much



Series: Dog-days [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), M/M, Magic, Peter takes care of Stiles, Stiles is turned into a dog, Witches are the worse, spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 04:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26466865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothing_much/pseuds/nothing_much
Summary: Witches are the worse. So Stiles gets turned into a dog. Peter takes care of him
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Dog-days [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937194
Comments: 8
Kudos: 432





	Dog-days

He doesn’t care how he got here. He wants everything to go back to normal or well his normal. The usual normal. You know, with monster of the week and pack. And a voice. Yeah. That normal.

The damn witch had ruined the day, week, month and possibly year, or years ahead of him. And fucking Deaton was his aloof self. Telling them that there was no cure, that ‘it will take as long as it takes for the spell to either work its course, and go away, or it will be permanent. I’ll look into it”. Helpful as always that man. 

He can’t stay like this forever. Just can’t. And that’s not only because of the way the pack looks at him, and laugh. No. Nope. Well not the only reason. It’s more to do with other, more important things. Like his father’s diet. Like being able to communicate properly. Especially now. He needs to take a leak, and no one seems to care. They are all just arguing about who’s to take care of him. Or rather that none of them care to. Take care of him that is. 

He needs to pee badly. And he has no way of telling anyone. The bathroom, and toilet feels wrong. He wants somewhere that smells nice. He whines. Nobody cares. Fucking witch. He decides on what to do. Stands, walks slowly towards the couch. And lifts his leg. That has them all reacting at least. Derek yells. Everyone else laughs. He doesn’t have time to relieve himself though, before someone grabs him by the scruff, and hauls him with them outside. 

At least he’s not on a leash. That would have been too embarrassing. He scurries towards something that feels like it would be nice to pee on. It’s heaven. A voice interrupts his bliss.

“A dog. You had to become a dog” Peter is watching him with a smirk. He looks back. He realised he’s a dog a while ago. Be doesn’t know what kind. But obviously it’s some kind of bigger dog. He knows he’s yellowish. He knows that when the witch threw her spell, she mentioned animals, and he’d seen these gorgeous puppies the other week, when he’d been to pick up Scott from the vet’s clinic. They’d been adorable. He hopes he’s a Lab. If he’d have to be a dog. Labs are the one he’d want to be.

He barked an answer. 

“Of course” they walked down the street, and Stiles happily lifted his leg against any surface worth it in his newfound form. Peter kept him company. It was weird. He usually filled every quiet moment with rambling, because he didn’t like the silence. But now they were walking, together, in quiet peace. And as weird as it seemed. Stiles enjoyed the company. 

Well to be honest, it wasn’t like he could talk anyway. 

They’d walked about 20 minutes when Stiles realised that they weren’t going towards his house, or back to Derek’s loft. They were walking down an unknown street with posh houses. He felt a thrill going down his spine. Well not literally, because it seemed that dogs didn’t feel thrills going down their spine. They were either going to Peter’s place, and he’d never been, seen or even known where it was.

Every time Stiles checked, Peter had a slight smirk on his face. Stiles couldn’t help wagging his tail. He let his tongue lol out of his mouth and with kind of a wide smile he walked down the sidewalk with his werewolf company. 

They arrived at a pretty large house, or home. It was white, and to Stiles utter joy it had a white picket fence. He barked once. If he could, he would have laughed. A lot. Even more when Peter looked annoyed as he peed beside the fence. Marking the territory.

As he entered the house he wasn’t surprised to see the minimalistic interior. The bottom floor had an open floor plan the kitchen, dining area and living room was all one big room. The entry and hallway only led to the stairs. The only thing that seemed out of character, was the very large, very comfortable couch in the middle of the room. Stiles started to walk towards it. Aiming for a nice place to lay down. He was immediately held back. He growled.

“No couch for you” Peter said “stay”. Stiles glares at him, but stayed and watched as the man walked towards the hallway. He was soon back with a couple of towels which he proceeded to put down in front of Stiles. Beside the wall. It felt safe, he saw the whole room, and no one could sneak up behind him. He huffed and watched as Peter prepared a bowl of water for him. 

He looked down at the towels, and decided to try to make himself comfortable. He saw Peter taking a bottle of red wine out of a large wine cooler in the kitchen area. He walked back and sat down in the couch, making himself comfortable, picking up a book. He looked over at Stiles who was still trying to make something comfortable out of the towels. They were very nice towels. He finally came to rest and looked mournfully at Peter and the couch. Peter smirked at him again. 

An hour or so later. It was hard to tell time in this form. Stiles woke from a comfortable slumber, as Peter stood up, he walked to the front door, and looked back at Stiles.

“Time for a ‘bathroom’ break” he told Stiles, who stood up slowly and walked towards him. Something moving caught his eye, and he noticed a big mirror in the hallway. One he hadn’t noticed on the way in. He looked at it. Yeah, a Golden retriever. He was a fucking Golden retriever. 

Well it could be worse. As he left the porch he tried to think of ways this could be worse. He could be a Chihuahua. He could be a cat. Well he could be Peter, he barked a laugh at the thought. But regretted both the laugh and the thought at once. No one wanted to be Peter, not even Peter.

He spent ten minutes exploring the yard, doing his business, he wanted to snort. But obviously dogs didn’t do that. Not even Golden retrievers. He made sure to touch Peter on the way in, and got a pat on his head. Probably a reflex. 

He went to his towels, as Peter shut all windows, and locked the doors before he went upstairs. Stiles could hear him making himself ready for bed. Being a dog sucks. But he must admit, that knowing what he knows, from tonight’s experience. He’s happy that Peter took him in. There would have been a lot more gloating, and prodding and such if any of the others had. Peter had let him be his new self, and hadn’t asked anything of him. The towels were nice, way nicer than the ones he had at home. 

He felt safe, and kind of comfortable in this form. He didn’t fidget, and felt kind of relaxed. He moved his head and was finally in a comfortable position. Peter made some quiet noises before Stiles heard him make his way to his bed. His hearing was fabulous in this form. This must be how it was for the werewolves all the time. He could hear some light shuffling before Peter seemed to fall asleep. He dosed off himself.

He woke in the morning warm and comfortable. There seemed to be too much fur and too many legs. But he didn’t care. It was probably because he was still a dog and not used to it. Suddenly he realised that there were way too many legs, and another heartbeat and the warmth. He decided to open one eye. Just a little.

There was another dog on his towel. A dog with grey fur. It was curled up against him. He felt warm and safe. He hadn’t even noticed it coming. He recognised the scent but he couldn’t place it. He noticed that it seemed to be too early to be awake. He closed his eye again and fell back to sleep. 

The next time he woke up was because of the other dog’s movement. Not only did the dog move and make him he feel cold. He opened one eye and followed the way it slunk into the hallway and heard it move towards the stairs, when he heard a weird noise, and then he heard Peter walking up the stairs. He contemplated the fact that Peter had shifted, and joined him on the floor of his living room as he listened to the noises of Peter getting dressed and ready upstairs. 

As soon as he came down the stairs Stiles greeted him by the door, wanting or rather needing to ‘step outside’ for some private business. He was let out, and in explored the yard around the house, and checked out the neighbour’s yards through the fence. He did his business and walked up to the door. It was ajar, so he went inside to look for Peter, who he found by a counter in the kitchen. 

Peter was just standing there, looking into his fridge, with a blank stare and a coffee in his hands. When Stiles walked up to him and pressed his head to Peter’s leg. The man seemed to wake up, he looked down at Stiles. He had an unreadable face and Stiles sighed. He was hungry, and wanted coffee, he was sure he wouldn’t get any. He whined a little. Peter patted his head again. Before he seemed to decide. He took out a container with leftovers and shoved it onto a plate on the counter, before he put it down in front of Stiles dog form.

It was heaven on a plate. Stiles decided there and then, that if he had to stay a dog. He would definitely fight to stay with Peter. Not only was the man respectful, didn’t bother Stiles, he was really nice to sleep next to and the food was to die for. He wondered what plans Peter had for the day, as he lay down, happily fed, and relaxed into some kind of food coma. His eyes following the man walking around the kitchen drinking his coffee, and making himself some oatmeal for breakfast. 

Before he sat down in a chair at the dining table by the window, he went upstairs to get a laptop. Stiles was a little envious. But his brain was still off from the food. He hoped that Peter not only occupy himself, but remember that Stiles needed to be doing things to. He didn’t have to worry. As soon as Peter had eaten, he went upstairs and put some running clothes on, and then they took a long run through the Preserve. Stiles was happily exhausted when they arrived back in the house a couple of hours later.

He wasn’t so happy when Peter hosed him down before he wrapped him up in his towels, and left him in his corner. Warm and relaxed he listened to Peter as he went upstairs and took a shower. Trying not to imagine Peter IN the shower, wearing no clothes. Being nude. No, nope, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself back to being human again. It didn’t work. But it kept him busy from thoughts of hot naked men, or man, in the shower upstairs.

A while later Peter came downstairs again, dripping a little from the shower, wearing sweatpants and nothing else. He watched the man make his way to the fridge. Pull out some chilled water, and pour some in Stiles bowl, before he went to the couch. Picking up a remote on the way. He was still standing as he put the television on, and looked towards Stiles. He put the water and the remote down, and walked towards him.

“Go lay by the couch, so you see the teve better” he told Stiles “I’ll move your towels”. As Stiles stood, Peter picked the towels up, and moved them to the couch. He looked thoughtful for a while, before he put the towels on the couch, and sat down beside them. Stiles looked at him, and jumped up to lay on the towels. Being careful, so that his body was only on the towels. If Peter was kind enough to treat him with this. He would be respectful enough to appreciate it. It was a really comfortable couch.

Peter took the remote, and his book. He switched the channels for a while, and found some film on one of them. He looked at Stiles and left it on. It was a film Stiles had seen before, but it didn’t bother him. There were something to focus on, and he relaxed into the couch. 

He didn’t fall asleep for a while, he lay there listening to the sound of Peter reading, things happening to the people on screen. And it wasn’t long before a hand started to stroke his ears. He looked at Peter who didn’t seem aware of touching him, between turning the pages of the book. It continued until noon, and was the most relaxing time Stiles had spent half awake. Ever. In the end he must have dosed off somewhere between a new film starting and Peter getting up to start on food. 

He got up, and went to the door. Peter let him out, and he did what he’d done before. When he came in, his towel was back by the wall, and he happily made his way to it. He observed Peter’s work in the kitchen. He seemed to be making homemade pasta. Stiles stomach growled and he wished he was human; he knew that Peter wouldn’t give him pasta. And considering the leftovers he had this morning. He knew he was missing out.

Peter worked in silence. It made Stiles think. He was always talking himself, and Peter seemed to like bickering with him. This was Peter’s life. It was quiet. Did Peter like him, like he always told him, because he didn’t let Peter disappear in the silent background. Always including him in whatever he was talking, or thinking about. Stiles always touched Peter, like he touched the others, and when they were paired off together, he never complained, or made it seem like an effort or something bad. He actually liked working with Peter, both when it came to patrol, and research. 

He knew the others didn’t really count neither him or Peter as pack, and they didn’t really care for making Peter feel comfortable or even included when they did things together as pack. Stiles had assumed that Peter didn’t want to be included as he was so much older than the rest of them. But being here now. Maybe Peter was like himself, and wanted to be more included. Maybe he didn’t want to have to ask his pack to be more included. Stiles decided that there was no time like the present and he would start to include Peter in his pack as soon as a chance was given. 

It was given at dinner. Peter sat down at the table, after giving Stiles a big bowl of his own mix mostly made of ground meat and grated carrots. When Stiles had finished he went to sit beside Peter, and put his head in the other man’s lap. He could feel Peter looking down on him, but since he wasn’t begging for food, the man let him be. He continued his close presence to Peter when they went out for an early evening stroll. 

Peter seemed let Stiles decide where to go, and seemed pleasantly surprised when Stiles decided on the Preserve, and a walk in the woods. Stiles didn’t want to see the rest of the pack in his current form, and didn’t want to linger on thoughts about it. He made the most of his nose, and was happily following the scents and sounds of the forest. 

An hour into the woods, when he was happily running down a path he suddenly heard the sound of other paws beating down on the same trail. He turned around and almost immediately spotted the dog from this morning. Recognising the grey fur, and the scent. Only now he could see it was a wolf. Peter was beautiful in his full shift. And Stiles couldn’t stop looking. Until Peter ran him down. Well that wasn’t very nice. The chase was on. 

An hour later Stiles realised it was the most fun he had in years. He had no clue to where they were. He was new at this, so excuse him. He was pretty sure though that Peter, who was walking with him, sometimes ahead, sometimes beside him, and sometimes behind him, knew exactly how to get back. Well if not, he wasn’t alone. And if they got hungry, Peter knew how to hunt. Probably.

As they walked by a clearing, Peter picked up a bundle of fabric, which he carried the rest of the way. His clothes Stiles guessed. He was fascinated that Peter stayed in his wolf form, even when they arrived home. Peter could open the door, and he let them both in. Stiles made his way to the towels, and lay down on them. He saw Peter looking at him hesitantly, and just let his tail wag, and his tongue roll out of his mouth in the universal friendly dog way. Peter took a step towards him, and Stiles made a quick decision as he rolled on his back and showed his belly. That seemed to make Peters hesitation disappear, and he came up to the towels, and lay down, sharing the space with Stiles, who again decided to ‘go dog’ and licked the wolf’s ear. Peter shook his head, and Stiles settled down to rest.

They lay like that until both of them dosed off. A couple of hours must have passed when they woke up by the buzzing of a phone. Wolf Peter just stared at it and pointedly ignored it, so Stiles decided not to care either, they went back to sleep. 

Sometime during the night. Peter must have woken up, because when Stiles woke up in the morning he felt a little saddened to wake up alone. The towels were cold, except for where he was, so he knew he’d been alone for a while. He realised he was still a dog, but as he remembered yesterday. He didn’t care. He hoped that today would be as nice as yesterday. 

The greatest thing about breakfast was that Stiles realised that Peter was not a morning person. That the name Zombiewolf was nothing but a description of who Peter was in the mornings. Blank expression. Slow movement. Seeming lost in thought, or not thinking at all. Morning was Zombiewolf time. 

The best thing about the morning walk, was that this time, Peter didn’t dress up in running clothes. He simply went upstairs, undressed and came down wolf. They slipped out of the front door, and into the back yard, where Peter knew a shortcut to the Preserve, where they spent all day running around. Peter taught him to hunt. Well they didn’t catch anything. But Stiles chased a squirrel and kept it up a tree for ages. Until Peter head butted him, and the chase was on. 

When they finally sneaked back in to Peter’s yard. They both stiffened, as they could smell another scent. It took Peter a moment to relax, Stiles didn’t know if he was going to bolt back into the woods, or walk around the corner, both of them were tense. Stiles relaxed when he saw Derek though. Derek must know that Peter could do a full shift. Even if he never said anything about it. 

Derek stood up when he saw them, and turned to open the door to let them in. Stiles dove into his towels as soon as he could, and Peter shifted back to human and walked upstairs. 

“I’ll get dressed. Put some coffee on, would you?” Peter asked Derek as he went.

“Stiles still a dog?” Derek asked and Stiles huffed, as it was quite obvious he still was. And Peter didn’t disappoint.

“No, Derek. Stiles is a real boy now” he answered his nephew. Stiles huffed again, this time he hoped they could distinguish his amusement, as Peter joined Derek in the kitchen. Sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Stiles closed his eyes because in any form, he would not get away with ogling any of the hot, hot, Hale boys. He groaned inside. There may have been the sound of a whine from where he was. But he would never own up to that sound. 

Derek and Peter both turned their heads and looked at him for a brief moment. He pretended he was somewhere else.

“So did Deaton tell you anything about when the spell may be broken” Peter asked and Derek shook his head.

“He thought it would take a couple of days, as he said that first night” Derek told them. To which Peter just nodded and hummed. 

“Are you staying for dinner” Peter asked. Derek looked a little apprehensive. 

“Are you inviting me?” 

Peter nodded. 

“I’m making Chicken Parmesan” he told them both. And this time no one could ignore that Stiles whined. He just knew he wouldn’t get to taste any of that. It was straight out howl worthy. He loved Chicken Parmesan almost as much as he loved his curly fries. 

“Looks like someone would like to have Chicken Parmesan” Derek snickered. Peter cuffed his head. 

“Don’t tease Stiles” he told Derek in a stern voice. “We don’t kick anyone in the pack when he’s down”. Derek looked a little ashamed until Peter continued “we wait ‘til he’s back to normal to tease the hell out of him” he smirked.

They snickered. Hot Hale boys were also mean Hale boys, Stiles summarized. He promised himself not to bake any of their favourite cookies, or bring any of their favourite snacks to pack nights in the near future. Being a dog sucked. But now he knew he had both Derek and Peter’s teasing to ‘look forward’ to. He decided to turn his back on them, and face the wall. Sleeping it was. He listened to Derek talking, more than he usually was, it seemed to be a pack update for Peter. They seemed to be content, doing this by routine. Stiles realised that it was himself and Derek who kept Peter in the loop, and by that in the pack. 

Derek wasn’t really in the pack either, him and Peter were kept on the outskirts. The true Alpha not including them, other than Peter and Stiles researching, but whatever conclusion they reach, Scott never bothers with anything but what Deaton thinks, and knows. And Derek, well the former Alpha was who Scott sent in first to a questionable situation, closely followed by Peter. Which made them the apparent two in the pack who was always injured or taken out. Scott often snickering about their lack of resilience or strength. 

Stiles. Well he was kept out of fights, not by choice, and usually he was the one who showed up when the fight was nearly lost, and saved everyone’s asses. Not that any of those asses ever thanked him. Come to think of it, the only ones who cared if he was injured or not was Peter and Derek. And the only ones who had volunteered to take ‘Dog Stiles’ in was first Derek, who was brushed off, no one else would take him though, until Peter had taken things into his own hands. 

Stiles spent the next hour, while Peter and Derek was making food in a comfortable silence, sometimes filled with bickering about ingredients, or questions about seasoning, really thinking about the last couple of years. The bite, the pack, monsters and well he did not linger on the Nogitsune, but what his thoughts got stuck on, was the time after. When Derek and Peter had been his lifelines.

The months after when the pack had turned their backs on, and ignored him. When Peter and Derek had spent almost all their free time with him. Just being there. Never required anything from him. Never put any pressure on him. Making sure he met up with a therapist in the know, when his father made him go to one. Making sure he got there, and that he had company afterwards. The progress taking payment in tears and panic attacks. 

He hadn’t seen anyone else of his so called pack in about six months. That’s how long it took Lydia to show up at his doorstep with a book about magic and a stolen bottle of wine. Lydia put him in touch with Jackson in London, who to his surprise became a close and understanding friend. Their experiences different, but similar. Slowly Lydia pulled him into the packs business again. New people had surfaced and they were the only ones who’d been with Scott since the beginning. Well except for Derek and Peter. Cora was somewhere in between the new pack members and the old. But she was family. And yeah, she’d left for South America a couple of months ago.

Stiles wondered if wolves needed an Alpha, or just a pack. The three of them, and maybe Lydia. They could be their own pack. Maybe. Well, he’d ask them if he ever became human again.

Peter made a clatter with the food bowl. Stiles ears perked. He looked around to see Peter filling it. He hoped that it wasn’t real dogfood. Maybe Derek had brought some. He was going to kill Derek if so. Well, not right now. Because, right now? If he wanted to kill someone, he’d have to put his trust in wagging his tail in someone’s face ‘til they died. And even dog him knew that, that would be impossible. 

The smell from his bowl was heavenly. Yep, if he stayed a dog. This was his life now. He would be Peter’s dog. There was chicken in the bowl, together with more grated carrots, and some other boiled vegetables. He didn’t care. The chicken smelled like heaven. And it tasted even better. He awarded himself with the same procedure as the day before. He went up to Peter and put his head in his lap. Derek snickered at him, but he did not care. Not at all. Peter was the best.

When Derek left in the evening. Stiles followed him out and did his business. Peter went upstairs, and when Stiles came in he waited by the door until Peter was back to close it. When Peter did, and looked it, and checked on the other doors and windows downstairs, before he turned the lights off. Stiles sat on his towels. It had been a really nice and relaxing night. 

When Peter is in the hallway he seems to hesitate. He comes back and Stiles looks at him. He makes a gesture to Stiles to follow. That night Stiles get to sleep in Peter’s bed. And that is a really nice bed. He falls asleep with a man, and wakes up with the wolf. 

The next day goes pretty much the same, Zombiewolf makes breakfast, and they spend hours in the Preserve. In the evening Peter makes food to die for, without Derek this time. They spend a nice, quiet evening together, and Stiles falls asleep in Peter’s bed.

Waking up is a completely different thing. Totally, and very, very nude wrapped around Peter’s equally naked body. Human again, well both of them. And well, very, very embarrassed. Luckily Stiles know that Peter is Zombiewolf in the morning, so he carefully manages to free himself and go up to find the bathroom. For the first day in ages, he can take a pee in the toilet, a real shower, and he even finds himself a package of toothbrushes. So he can brush his teeth. Coming out of the bathroom, he’s wrapped himself in a towel. 

Peter is still in bed, whining when Stiles leaves. Stiles smirks for the first time in days he can respond to something. Pay back a small part of his debt.

“I’ll make you some coffee Zombiewolf” he tells the older man, who almost purrs back. 

He finds his way to the kitchen and checks out the fridge and the pantry. In there he finds ingredients to what he wants to make for Peter and starts off with coffee, followed by bacon, eggs and toast. He’s almost done when Peter comes staggering. Stiles points at the table, and Peter just drops down on the chair. The younger man, now human, puts on of the cups of coffee in his hands and hurries back to the counter, to get the plate of food to put in front of the Zombie. 

It takes Peter two cups of coffee and every scrap on his plate, and twenty minutes to reach a somewhat normal state. When he does, he goes upstairs to take a shower. Stiles suddenly realises he has no clothes, and been spending the morning wrapped in a towel. Well the Zombie that is Peter in the morning, didn’t seem to notice. He washes the dishes, and flops down on the couch. He reaches for the remote, and twenty minutes later Peter is there in running gear, throwing some at Stiles. Before he knows what happened, they are out in the preserve running, like they’ve done the last few days. It’s like nothing is different, except they are both human this time. When they come back, Peter shows Stiles to a room, that obviously is for guests and has an ensuite with a shower. Stiles takes his second shower, and enjoys the feeling just as much. He does definitely not think about the other shower in the house, and that it’s right now occupied by a very naked hot Hale. No, nope. It’s nobody’s business what he does in the shower anyway.

Clean and relaxed he makes his way downstairs, again wrapped in nothing but a towel. He settles down on the couch and soon he hears Peter coming downstairs. The older man puts something on the couch before he walks to the fridge and this time he grabs two bottles of water, and hands one to Stiles. He points to the stuff he brought and Stiles can see a pair of clean sweatpants and a tee, he dresses himself in it while Peter finds a film on the TV and settles down with his book. Stiles makes himself comfortable with his head in Peters knee and watches the film, while Peter plays with his hair. 

When the movie finishes Peter gets up to make dinner, he looks at Stiles and asks if homemade Pasta Bolognese is a viable option. Stiles nods eagerly before he joins Peter in the kitchen. Peter points him towards the cutting board and puts him to work. They work mostly in silence. And soon there are the aromas of the minced meat floating in the air. Stiles stomach hurts, he’s so hungry. Peter opens a bottle of red wine, and sets the table.

When the food is ready and the wine has aerated, Peter pulls out Stiles chair and they settle at the table. The food and drinks are again to die for. And Stiles can die happy. He tells Peter as much when he’s eaten everything on his plate, and in return he doesn’t get one of the usual smirks. Suddenly a thousand watt is aimed his way. He gets a genuine smile. It makes his heart stumble, and suddenly he has a new goal in life. To make Peter Hale smile genuine smiles.

Peter looks at him curiously. Stiles doesn’t really know what to do with himself. Usually he starts rambling by now. But he’s been off the rambling for a couple of days, and learnt to enjoy the easy silence between them, so he starts to clear the table instead. He can feel Peter’s eyes follow him, but he doesn’t say anything, and Stiles, for once, keeps quiet. 

When he starts doing the dishes, Peter joins him. They work in companionable silence. Stiles is amazed how silent he is today. But he doesn’t have it in him to start bickering or arguing about things that doesn’t mean anything. They settle in the couch for a couple of hours and as Peter reads, Stiles watches TV using Peter as his pillow. 

Later Peter locks all the doors and Stiles goes upstairs and brushes his teeth, before using the toilet, undresses and settles in Peters bed. The older man joins him when he’s been to the bathroom, and undressed. They cuddle up and go to sleep. Both of them wake up tangled in sheets and each other, but well rested. Well Zombiewolf is still a Zombie, so Stiles untangles himself and goes to make breakfast after a visit with the toothbrush and relieving himself in the bathroom.

Coffee is ready and waiting and pancakes are well on their way when Peter stumbles down and flops himself on his chair. He drinks half his cup of coffee before Stiles is done with the pancakes. He doesn’t think the older man even noticed when he set the table in front of him. But just as he sits down, Peter opens his mouth.

“So, are we going to talk about you not being a dog anymore?” he asks Stiles who freezes. He doesn’t really know what this is or what he’s doing. He should be at home with his father. Or somewhere with the pack. The pack that doesn’t want him his brain supplies. 

“Uh, no” is Stiles eloquent answer. He gets one of those thousand watt genuine smiles from Peter. 

“Ok” he tells Stiles. “Ok” and with that Stiles falls ever so little in love with Peter. Well he already knew he liked the man. Both intellectually, and physically. Now he knows he likes the way he respects Stiles, and doesn’t push. Just accept him as he is. He hasn’t said a word about Stiles not talking a mile a minute, not bickering, arguing or even fidgeting. Stiles feels like he’s on some kind of vacation. 

Peter doesn’t push. They spend the day on the couch, Stiles watching movies, and Peter reading. In the early evening, Peter’s head goes up and he looks at the door before there is a knock. Derek walks in without waiting for an invitation. Suddenly Stiles is wondering about the upper floor. With how big the bottom floor is, there should be more rooms than two on the second floor. Maybe Derek has his own room in the house. Stiles asks as much, and both Hale’s nod. 

“Oh” Stiles says. Derek looks pointedly direct at him.

“So, wanna tell me how long you’ve been a real boy Stiles?” he asks with an open smile.

“Woke up like this yesterday” Stiles mumbles.

“And both of you didn’t think to tell anyone” Derek doesn’t sound annoyed, he sounds amused, and as they both shake their heads, he barks out a laugh. “Didn’t think so” he tells them. 

Peter and Stiles looks at each other, really looks for the first time since Stiles is back. The boy realises that he didn’t want to leave, so he pretended that what had happened the last few days, was what was normal. But now he realises that Peter did the same thing. 

“Now you get it” Derek announces with a smirk. 

Stiles blushes, and Peter, does something that gets Stiles totally dumbfounded, as he moves closer and catches Stiles lips with his own. Peter is kissing Stiles. This doesn’t change anything. Stiles still hates witches. And Stiles is going to work hard to make this his pack. Starting when he can find his brain again.

*

His father looks at him over the brim of his coffee cup. Eyebrows raised, Derek standard.

“So let me get this straight” he says. “You got turned into a dog, no one in the pack, except Peter wanted to take you in, and this is a pack lead by a boy who wants to be a veterinarian?” As to which Stiles nodded.

“And Peter took you in, treated you like a dog and took care of you” Stiles kept nodding.

“And now you’ve been at his place at least 10 out of 12 nights since then?” By now Stiles felt like one of those bobblehead dolls. But yeah his dad got the picture.

“Which leads me to the piece de resistance, you are now moving in with Peter and Derek, Peter whom you are now in a relationship with, to start a pack of your own, without an Alpha, and with Lydia as the fourth member? Am I correct” At this Stiles had to answer out loud.

“Yeah” he said sounding beat, now his dad had all the facts, and the arguing would commence, he would have to argue his point, and his dad would disagree.

“Ok” his dad said. Stiles drew a breath to start to argue his point, when the answer hit him. 

“Ok?” he asked in bewilderment

“Yes, son, Ok. I know you, and I know the Hale boys by now. I also know Lydia. If the two of you take on the task of protecting this town, with the Hale boys. I’m sure there is nothing in the world that can stop you. You are the brightest, smartest, most loyal, people I know. You all care for each other, and for the people of this town. I for one feel safer with you connected to the Hale boys, and Lydia than I did when it was Scott in charge. The bite did him no good. He was his mother son, up till then. The power made him into a copy of his power hungry and short sighted dad, who always trusted the people kissing his ass” 

Stiles snorted the tension had gotten to both of them, and soon they were bent over laughing. When Peter showed up a short while later, too short, to meet the Sheriff as Stiles boyfriend for the first time, the Stilinskis were still fighting to stay serious, which made them giggle like children in between bouts. 

Peter didn’t really know what to do with himself. This was not the situation he’d prepared for. The Sheriff who’d prepared for a serious shovel talk, just went with it, and hugged the man, and wished him welcome to the family.

It was all around confusing, but then again, living in Beacon Hills was never ordinary. And Stiles had a boyfriend who made him dinners, cared for him and whom he loved more than a little, but don’t tell him that, it’s only been a couple of weeks you know.


End file.
